


Taste of Living

by TheClassics4



Category: 28 Weeks Later (2007), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Animal Death, Anyelle, Bloodplay, F/M, Zombies, cracky zombie smut, kind of, this is supposed to be a rumbelle AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:03:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheClassics4/pseuds/TheClassics4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The infection spreads slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DelilahBlueEyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahBlueEyes/gifts).



> I don’t even know what to say about this, other than someone said something that kind of irked me and I wrote this because I don’t like being told what to do. Especially when I’m a part of a fandom where the weird smut is embraced.

He was hungry.

He was never not hungry. And everything around him smelled of rotting food. Even he smelled of rotting food. Tainted with infection.

There were still fading memories inside him. Flashes of faces, of living meat. He couldn’t concentrate on them long enough to know what they were. His only coherent thoughts were of food.

His legs were heavy, the bones tired from endless walking. But he  _needed_  food.  Meat. Warm, tender, dripping meat. Inside it felt like he was rotting and only food would help. It had to help. He had no choice but to walk. There was no food here and it carried him forward. There had to be somewhere fresh with food.

Around him, the rotting meat sniffed him. He smelt fresher. He knew it. He could smell it on himself. Others blocked out his smell, but he wasn’t as poisoned. The life inside him worsened his hunger when there was no other meat. He could never bring himself to gnaw on his own limbs for long, but he would bite his fist and if he drew blood then all the better.

The ground changed under his feet. He was no longer walking on cement. It was soft and green. Grass. His memories managed to trudge up the word. It felt better than walking on hard rock and he decided he would stay here, even if there was no meat.

But there had to be food out here. Not great food, but the moment he saw a small, bouncing living meat he knew he’d come to the right place. He pounced on it, clamoring on the grass to get his hands around the squiring food. It squeaked loudly when he bit into it and the blood flooded his mouth, almost choking him. He sucked down the liquid, desperate to get to firm muscle.

The meat quickly fell limp in his fingers and its cries died away, leaving only his greedy sucking sounds in the air.

But then, there was something else. A splash in water. Sniffing, he dropped the little dead meat from his mouth and turned. It had been a big splash. Something bigger, more warm and alive.

The river was close here, he could hear it when he listened. He ran fast. He couldn’t let the meat get cold or worse—eaten before he arrived.  

But he was alone when he broke past the trees. Alone except for a figure face down in the river. It was bleeding into the river and he sprinted down to drag it from the water. Girl. His memories told him. She was female with her long hair and shaped chest. And she was tainted.

He pressed his nose to her cheek. The infection was in her, but he shuddered. She’d been alive just minutes ago. He could still smell the life in her.

With a small whine, she opened her eyes and turned to look at him, squinting at him with red-infected eyes. She sniffed and leaned up from the ground. Leaves and grass  stuck in her hair and she dripped water over him as she sat.

She pressed her nose close, sniffing his skin as he’d done hers. She recoiled a bit. He smelled more infected than she did. It didn’t stop her from leaning back in and dragging her tongue along his chin. He’d all but forgotten about his earlier food. His face was covered in its blood and she swallowed before all but throwing herself at him to lick him clean.

When her tongue found its way through his lips, her breath tasted not of infection, but of life. He could smell blood somewhere on her. Her own blood. She’d been bleeding in the water and he flipped her back on the ground to look her over. She had a few small gashes, a bandage around her hand which smelled rank, but it was her leg that had been bleeding. High on the inside of her thigh

The blood was still  _warm_. It soaked through the fabric of her pants and she was wriggling beneath him, trying to pull him back to reach her. He indulged her for just a moment, letting her breath seep into him again.

His hand was still down at her thigh, rubbing into the torn fabric to feel for the wet flesh. He pulled away from her, immediately latching his lips to the gash. It hadn’t been a bite; there was little infection in the taste there, and barely in the blood that had dried on her pants. Without moving his lips, he heaved her leg over his shoulder.

Above him she let out a small moan and he looked up at her as he tore at the fabric with his teeth. She was making strange noises, moving her hips down against his forearm where it was stuck between her legs.

Yes, he could remember this. Females liked it when touched there. He abandoned her leg for a moment, tugging on her pants and tearing them from her. When he looked down at himself, he saw that his body remembered this too. He protruded the front of his pants.

Suddenly, it was a different hunger he needed appeased. The girl yanked by the shoulders back to him, licking his mouth. He could smell the scent of her. The scent other than blood. There was still enough life in her to put out a scent of arousal. She was reluctant to let him slide away from her, but he ran his nose through the lips between her legs and her hands stopped tugging him.

The wetness made his insides clench pleasantly, almost painfully. He dipped his tongue deep inside of her, the taste of her life flooding his senses. It was  _life_. Her infection could be tasted underneath, but it was drowned out. Everything had drowned out; food could have gone right past them and he wouldn’t have cared.

His body was conflicted. The hunger in his stomach and the aching between his legs tore at him. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to stay where he was, his mouth between her thighs, or tear his own pants from him and bury inside her. His male part would fit inside her. He could remember it—remember it would feel pleasing and tight around him.

The urge eventually took over when he was throbbing painfully beneath his trousers. She could smell herself on his lips and gave him no time to scramble with the button on his fly. Her tongue lapped through his mouth and chin desperately. He understood her haste. The taste of the life in her begged him to return his mouth.

Blindly, he tore at his pants and they finally fell to the ground in shreds. It was quick when he pushed inside her, desperate. She gave a small hiss and her teeth clamped together on his lip. His own infected blood smothered the taste she’d left and he turned his head to spit the bitter blood.

She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips. His memories had been a hazy mess and had not prepared him for how his body fit with hers. She was warm. Her blood flowed in her, alive, pounding around him.

They panted together, so nosily that they must have been heard. Had they been interrupted, it would have ended badly. He needed this pleasure and anything coming between that would be ended. The girl bucked up against him, yelping out loud enough to make his sensitive ears ring. He hushed her with his mouth and kept driving into her, using her convulsing walls to draw out his own pleasure.

Giving a loud cry of his own, he clung to her. He could feel her heart thumping in her chest, beating through to his ribcage. When she lifted her head to look at him, her eyes almost seemed too look the color of the sky, but she blinked again and it was gone.

She looked at him, curling her lips to show her bloodstained teeth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so turns out I like writing this much more than I should, and there'll probably be one more part... more if I get inspired again.

He laid on top of her for a long while, his lips and tongue playing over her skin. She had long ceased to try and lick the blood that no longer remained on him. She’d bitten him a few times, testing whether he still tasted the same on the inside. Immediately, she’d spit it back out.

He knew better. He knew she would be bitter beneath the skin. Beneath the skin, she was just as tainted as he was. So he ran his nose over her, lifting the scent of her life into his lungs.

A small whimper came from her throat and she nipped at him again. She was hungry. And so was he.

He pushed away from her, standing and smelling for food in the air. There was none. His stomach  _ached_. The little meat barely fed him at all. He held his stomach and started walking. It was the only thing he could do. The only thing he knew how to do. His pants were in shreds on the ground along with hers.

The female. She wasn’t following him. She was somewhere else. Looking for food, just as he was. He didn’t care to see her again. Soon every ounce of her life would be gone. Though…their moments spent on the ground had been pleasurable.

Already he was missing what little life she did contain. She’d been warm and her heart had beat a smell of life. He grabbed his stomach tighter as the thought of food came to him. He  _did_ want to find her again. Find her and eat out whatever life he could. He could not live on it. It wasn’t  _meat_. But it was better than tiny, squeaking, squirming food. She squirmed for a different reason.

He groaned at the memory. That different, tugging hunger somewhere deeper than his stomach started gnawing at him again. His male part was starting to stiffen, sticking out as he walked so he could see it. There were vague memories of him in a dark place. He was on his side and his part was hard like it was now. He’d used his own hand.

But he didn’t want that now. He wanted food. That was most important.

He was alone. The female was not anywhere by here. It was a good thing. He didn’t want to share his meat with her. She could find her own meat.

The river still flowed at his side and it was loud. It was going to block out any sound of food nearby. So he turned and left the river behind him.  His feet were starting to hurt again. The bones in his legs always seemed to be stiff. If he could get food, get his stomach to stop aching so painfully, he could deal with the sharp pains too. But he hurt everywhere. Even his male part had begun to throb uncomfortably.

He sat on the green ground. He couldn’t sit for long—hunger got worse every second. But he wanted to sit. He flopped back onto the ground and closed his eyes. Even with his arm thrown over his eyes, food was everywhere. He could taste it, he could see it. Little beading, red-black eyes. Smelling of dirt and wood. He could almost hear it’s breathing—fast little inhaling—could almost hear…

He bolted upright. It was here. Not just in his mind, but he could hear paws—hooves—against the ground. And there it was. He knew the name of the animal, but he didn’t care to stop and bring it back to himself.

It was sniffing around somewhere in the trees. He knew exactly where it was and he clambered to his feet and ran at it. The animal spotted him and sprinted away from him. It was too fast for him and just as he gave a wail of anger at it, the animal was tackled to the ground.

The scent of its blood was immediately filling the air driving him to run at it. It was the female. She was biting at the animal, her breathing ragged and wet with meat. She didn’t notice him until he knelt across her and started tearing at the carcass. She’d already devoured the front half of it, leaving him barely any food on the hind quarters. The deer scent plastered over her. It’s blood seeping into her shirt and skin.

The meat sat in his stomach and only seemed to make him hungrier. He leaned over it, his mouth meeting hers over the food and their tongues playing together for just a second. His hands grabbed her, leaving the meat, and he hauled her over to him.

Her mouth tasted of the meat they’d been sharing. Wild, dirt, living meat. He slammed her onto the ground and she arched her back into him as he licked the blood from her. She fisted her hands in his hair, squeezing out the wet blood to drip down his cheek.

This was what his body had been longing for since he’d let her go. His body had urges that were far more than just food. And this was the one time he could almost glimpse his life before Food was everything to him. When there was life in his own blood, when there was thought coherent enough to voice appreciation for how the woman wrapped her legs around his hips.

He’d smeared the blood around on her face and neck with his tongue and it was drying in swirling patterns which a part of his brain told him he liked. He liked the way she looked. Pretty. The words of attractive and pretty and beautiful were words he remembered. But his brain couldn’t make his mouth say them. Frustrated, he pressed his mouth to hers, snaking his tongue through her lips.

She still tasted faintly of before. Faintly of life beneath wild deer food. She pulled her mouth away to finish cleaning his chin.

The way she held him was agony. The tip of his male part could feel how wet she was between her legs. But she held him away from her just enough to keep her from fitting inside her. He moved his hips toward her, nudging the slick folds. She gave a little moan of protest and continued to suck the liquid from his neck.

He wished she would have her fill already. He’d already licked clean everything he could on her, but he was messy when it came to meat. Messy and getting blood all down his neck and shirt.

He remembered how she’d tasted there. Hot and full of life. She would not release him when he tried to slink back down between her legs, refusing to let him take the blood smeared on him. He had no choice but to stay and while she continued her work, he busied himself with running his nose along the cleaned skin of her cheek, trying to separate out the tainted infection smell and his own smell to get to the living undertones.

The skin under his nose was soft. Softer than his first little meal that day. He started running over her cheek in slow, hypnotizing motions that he hadn’t noticed she was no longer running her tongue over him. When her hand closed around his man part, he yelped with surprise and she let out a small giggle before kissing him again.

She let her head fall back to the ground as he entered her, sighing with contentment. Eagerly, he moved his hips against hers, finally being allowed to ease the throbbing inside him. She was locked around him tightly, her hands digging beneath the back of his shirt to paw at his back. Her nails were wet with blood, leaving cool streaks down his spine that stung when she went back over them again.

Her tongue sneaked out again, licking his bottom lip and leaving the taste of blood in his mouth that made him groan. His hips moved faster and she had started to meet them, rocking beneath him on the grass and kissing him messily while they pulled apart and joined even deeper.

The grass was slippery under his palms and the vigorous motion made him slip more than once. She seemed to like it. His hips would change angle and she would wince, biting his flesh wherever was closest to her mouth. He tried again, earning him a small cry. Once more, hard, and she threw her head back, revealing her chin where there was still a wet dripping of red. Everything of her was clenching him and when he touched his tongue to her chin, with another thrust, his body shook.

Blind feeling overpowered him. Feeling of more than just hunger and pain. His teeth were bared, gritted hard against each other with the sensation. His hips worked without him telling them to move and his fingers ripped at the grass below his palms. But no matter how long he kept pushing inside her, the feeling eventually subsided.

The female watched him, her red-infected eyes barely hinted with a grin. Again words evaded him and he pressed his mouth to hers, taking her lip in his teeth. 

_Attractive. Pretty. Beautiful._


	3. Chapter 3

He was alone. Again.

He didn’t mind. He was always alone save for the few times he been with the female. He didn’t want to be with others. They would take his meat. And he was greedy and he was starved.

Somehow, he’d made his way back to the hard cement. It made his legs burn, but the female had left him. Where else was he supposed to go? She’d taken her meat kill and left him lying half crazed with hungry desire. He wandered aimlessly and had found his way back here. He almost turned back, but there was nothing pressing that called him.

Memories told him that he should find clothing. It was obscene to walk around half clothed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He would have to go out of his way to, then struggle to get into them. He could cut the entire process out and save time he could be looking for food.

There was never any food. But he still had to look. His stomach was eating itself with hunger and he _had_ to find food.

The smell in the streets made him gag. It was the stench of infection and had there been food in his empty stomach, it would have come back up. So instead, he walked.

Buildings had once been filled with meat. This entire city had been filled with meat and it had all been taken. He’d been meat once. He still had flashes of what his life had been. Faces of a girl and a boy and a woman.

Those memories made him angry. Angry wasn’t something he was used to—it was like the first time he’d mated with the female. A part of his old life he had yet to remember. But now, it was all that consumed his thoughts.

Why was he so angry? Why did the image of a woman strapped to a table make him scream and pound against the nearest wall? The image of the boy made him slap his head against the brick and he howled in pain. It was overpowering and blinding and there was nothing he could do about it.

No matter how loud he shrieked or how hard he hit the wall, the anger coiled inside of him, winding up his limbs and making his insides tremble. All he wanted was to feel something in his hands, something he could touch beside this damned wall. It was numb to his rage and it angered him further.

His clawing at the brick made his fingertips raw and finally with a closed fist, he hit it one last time. He stood, glaring at the bloodied wall. His breathing came in quick pants, but it was a small movement that finally snapped him to alertness. The movement was brief, but he’d seen it.

He set off immediately. Running hurt, but he had to catch it. It had to be meat. _Good_ meat— _alive_ meat. He didn’t smell anything different, but he had seen it. It was here. His mouth watered even at the prospect of warm dripping meat in his mouth and he raced forward.

But suddenly, he was yanked back. Teeth bared into his neck, one hand pulling his head back by his hair. He turned his head as far as was allowed and was met with the eyes he’d seen many times. Coy and calculating and growing more red than they’d first been.

She slipped her tongue between her lips, running it over the teeth marks she’d left.

He was disappointed to see her. This was not food.

With an angry huff, he gripped her hands and yanked them from his hair. That didn’t please her. She narrowed her eyes at him and circled around to his front. She lashed her arm out, throwing him against the nearest wall and had her lips playing with his.

That last hint of life still clung to her and he kissed her back, his hands gripping her forearms tightly. She was soft under his crushing fingers. This was what he’d wanted. Anger had made him tense and hypersensitive. She may have cost him his meat, but he could clutch her as hard as he needed. The male part between his legs was already reacting to her and if he could get the thing to pump its release, it might help ease the anger from his limbs.

But she was enjoying not giving in to him. She would press her slick lips against the tip of it only to shove her hips away when he moved forward. He snapped at her in irritation, only to make her giggle and clamp her teeth around his neck. The angry growl he gave was cut short as her fingers closed around him, tightly pulling at the hard fleshy member.

She had a glint in her eye as she slipped her mouth away from him. She gave him another fast tug to which he could only grit his teeth and slam his head back. Her tongue flicked against his throat a few times, leaving cool streaks across his windpipe.

His hands scrambled around her as he realized she was lowering herself to her knees. Her mouth was wet and warm and soft and he moaned when she pressed her lips to the side of his part. His heart pound wildly, sending blood pulsing to where she licked him. She hadn’t even gotten her lips around him when he felt his seed pulse out of him, barely missing her.

After it had ended, he looked and saw her kneeling, examining the dark pool he’d left on the street before him. It was a dark red color, darker than blood. She was distracted by it and he hauled her to her feet, pulling her away. The fast, ripping spasm had left him shaking, but not at all settled. There was still unbearable tension in him and he felt as if he wanted to spring himself on her and pound away until he’d lost sense of what Anger was.

As she’d done with him, he slammed her against the wall. Only this time, the wall—the door—he’d pushed her against, gave out and he tumbled on top of her. She hit the ground with a breathless laugh and pulled him back to her.

Already he liked this better. Her mouth around him was too much. Too _good_. There was no build inside him to help at all. Here, lying over her, he could rub his part against her thigh until he was stiff again. She could coax him with her feet behind his back.

It was dark around them and smelled of rotting water. There was no food inside the building.

She seemed to be looking for it too, sniffing the air over his shoulder. Content that they should not be interrupted, he allowed himself to noisily murmur in her ear. Words were difficult. His infected mind didn’t let him say what he thought, his mouth no longer knew how to do anything but eat. And she made encouraging noises of her own, nodding her pleasure with how he slowly worked himself into her.

The door beneath them balanced on the knob and rocked with his movements. It was slippery and hard to balance his elbows, but he enjoyed the difficulty. An easy pay off barely satisfied him. He was panting and his muscles burned with his effort.

The female was enjoying his efforts. Clawing at him with her nails, trying to lick him through grit teeth. He felt her body collapse around him, pulling him in and locking him in place until he finally quaked. Every ounce of strain poured into her with each erratic thrust, draining with the dark liquid into her.

She rubbed between them at her own body, drawing out both of their tremors to a painful degree. It became too much and he had to collapse on top of her. She touched her slick finger to his lips, and he eagerly accepted the savory wetness.


End file.
